The Prodigal Sons Return
by SelenaEde
Summary: Edgar Frog returns from hunting and discovers an old friend has looked him up and has some sad news. Sequel to The Prodigal Sons Meet. Set 21 years after the original story. Considerablly darker/deeper than the first. Supernatural crossover.


**Disclaimer:** Me no owny Supernatural or The Lost Boys, no matter how much I wish I did :P

Note: This takes place after the finale of the 3rd season of Supernatural, and after the Lost Boys sequel, directly after the conclusion of that little squabble between Edgar and Sam Emerson the uber-vamp during the credits. This was also inspired by the contents of Chapter Two of the book Lake of Souls in the Cirque du Freak Saga by Darren Shan, for the few of you who probably know what I'm talking about. :P Please review, hardly anyone does review my stuff. Flamers are disaproved of, but reluctantly will be listened too because I'm too nice to ignore people. Be warned though, your flames will possibly be used to throw a bonfire party on the beach with all the sexy vampires you know and love in attendance. :P

**The Prodigal Sons Return**

Edgar Frog sighed as he hopped out of his dirty old pick up truck, covered in blood. He reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed his duffle bag of supplies, flinging it over his shoulder. The eldest Frog brother had just returned from a… meeting with and old friend, Sam Emerson.

Truth be told, it was more than just a meeting, it was a full out fight with his old friend-turned-vamp. Luckily, or unluckily, whichever the case, Edgar had won, and staked the man who was once his best friend.

Edgar hurriedly walked up to the door of his trailer, unlocked the door and quickly shuffled inside. As he reached for the light switch he froze, sensing someone's presence in his home. Quickly, he reached for one of the stakes that was strapped to his chest. Striking a fighting stance, he flicked on the light, ready to attack.

Once his eyes adjusted to the light he paused, looking at the man that was sitting at his modest little kitchen table. The man in question had shaggy dark brown hair and his back was to Edgar. Almost as if sensing the hesitation from the Frog brother, the man started to speak.

"I thought you'd never get home," the mystery man said softly.

"Who are you?" Edgar demanded, not relaxing from his attack stance. With that the mystery man turned around and faced the Frog brother.

The man was tall, and had green eyes. Very familiar green eyes. Edgar glared at the man for a second longer, but suddenly realization dawned. He relaxed his stance and gaped at the man before him.

"Sammy? Sammy Winchester?" Edgar asked in disbelief.

"It's Sam now, but yeah. Hi Edgar, long time no talk," the younger man said.

"What are you doing here?" Suspicion had given way to curiosity. Edgar hadn't seen Sam Winchester since that time all those years ago, when Sammy was a little boy no older than four. A lot had changed since then.

"I'm having a rough time lately, so I thought I'd look you up," Sam explained. "You did say that next time we were in town we should visit you."

"That was years ago and in Santa Carla," Edgar stated.

"Well I was kind of hoping the offer was still open, despite the years and the move to Luna Bay. But if you want me to go…" Sam began.

"No it's fine, stay. What's going on Sam?" Edgar asked, finally moving forward and dumping his bag on the table.

"I'll tell you in a minute, but first, what's with all the blood? Just get back from hunting?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Edgar said vaguely, not wishing to go into detail at the moment.

There was a brief pause as Edgar took off his camouflage-hunting jacket and sat down beside the younger man.

"Where's Alan?" Sam asked and Edgar winced internally.

"He's not here," Edgar said.

"Oh," was all Sam uttered.

"Ok, so spill Sammy, what's wrong?" Edgar said, using the nickname that had stuck. Sam ignored the use of the name and sighed. Edgar was reminding him a lot of Dean at the moment, and that was good in a way and at the same time kind of not good. But it made him feel better.

"My brother's dead." Sam said simply. Calmly. He hadn't cried yet. It happened three weeks ago and he hadn't even truly cried yet.

"Dean's what?" Edgar asked, shocked.

"He's dead." Sam repeated, just as calmly as before.

"Sam, I'm so sorry," Edgar said and he meant it.

"Don't be, you didn't kill him," Sam pointed out.

"I'm sorry all the same," Edgar said, meaning it. Memories of the only time he'd met Dean flicking through his mind, as well as memories of the bi-monthly phone calls that he'd receive from the older Winchester. These were followed quickly by memories of Alan. Edgar quickly pushed those thoughts out of his head. _That must be why he looks so empty. So lifeless…_ Edgar thought.

"Shouldn't be…" Sammy muttered, looking at his hands listlessly. Edgar was growing frustrated at the man. He was acting like a broody teenager instead of the tough man he was.

"I know you're sad Sammy, but you can be less broody," Edgar said, looking at the younger man.

"You don't know what I'm feeling. No one does!" Sam growled, getting defensive. He came here thinking that Edgar might be more understanding but apparently he was just going to be like Bobby was. Just like Ruby was. Sam glanced up and noticed Edgar looking at him oddly. "What?"

"You think that you're the only one to lose somebody close to them? To lose their brother? The reason Alan isn't here Sammy, is because he's a vampire. The bloodsucking bastards turned him on me. I lost my brother to the night. He's the equivalent of dead to me. And what's worse is that if he ever comes here or if I ever see him again, I have to kill him or die trying. You're not the only one to lose a brother." Edgar said, staring out the window. He still hadn't come to accept it. It still stung like a bitch every time he thought of it. Sam could just blink at the eldest Frog brother stupidly.

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled. "I didn't know."

"I don't tell people often," Edgar said. He gazed out the small window of his trailer. "The reason I'm covered in blood is because I was hunting before you showed up. But it wasn't a normal hunt. My old friend Sam Emerson showed up. He was turned into a creature of the night too. Before I came home I…" Edgar trailed off, oddly unable to bring himself to say the words.

Sam wanted to say something, but suddenly his throat felt dry and tight, like someone had tied a noose around it.

"The loss of somebody who you are close to is the second worst thing in the world," Edgar explained softly. "The worst thing is letting that loss hurt you so much that you die too, only inside instead of out."

Sam nodded wordlessly.

"I've lost my brother and I lost my best friend, and tonight I had to do something very unpleasant, but I'm dealing with it. Are you?"

Sam gazed at Edgar, as if the older mans words held him in a trance.

"Dean's dead and I'm sad about that, sad for him. But if you go on being like this, broody, angry, uncaring, hopeless, I'll be much more sad for you, because you'll be dead too, even though your body continues to live."

There was a silence following Edgar's heartfelt and unusual speech. After a few moments, Sam found his voice.

"I can't help it," Sam croaked. "He is…was my brother, but I didn't cry when he died. I still haven't. I can't."

Edgar continued to look out the window for a moment then turned and studied Sam.

"I didn't either, for the longest time after I lost Alan. I know that it's hard to deal with sadness if you can't let it out with tears. Don't worry, you'll cry in the end. Maybe you'll feel better when you do. I know I did," Edgar said.

"Edgar…" Sam started. Edgar simply ignored Sam, got up and looked around. He had to get his point across still. Sam was listening, Edgar could tell, but he wasn't really _listening_. He didn't hear. He didn't understand.

After a moment of looking he found what he was looking for in a drawer in the small kitchen.

"Here," Edgar said, handing Sammy a small mirror. "You look awful, take a look at yourself."

"What?" Sam was confused, but he still took the mirror.

"Look at yourself." Edgar commanded, standing behind the sitting Winchester.

"Ok…" Sam said and hesitantly looked at himself.

"What do you think of what you see?" Edgar asked.

"I look like I haven't slept in weeks," Sam said, turning away at from the mirror, not wanting to look more.

Edgar put a hand on Sam's shoulder and pointed at the mirror.

"You're not finished. Keep looking," Edgar commanded. Sam looked up at Edgar like he was crazy, but still turned his gaze back to the small mirror in his hands.

"What am I looking for?" Sam asked.

"Look at your eyes. Look into them and don't look away until you see." Edgar said.

"See what?" Sam asked, but Edgar ignored him and entered the small bedroom to change into something less dirty. He trusted Sam to do as he said.

Sam looked at himself. He looked into his eyes, but saw nothing truly different. They looked sadder than usual but nothing different. After a moment longer Sam noticed what Edgar was trying to show him. Sam's eyes weren't just sad; they were completely empty of life and hope. They looked dead. Even Dean's eyes as he died hadn't looked as lost and hopeless as Sam's now did. Sam suddenly understood the true meaning behind what Edgar had said. He understood how the living could be dead too.

Edgar re-entered the living area, now dressed in a much cleaner shirt and pants. Edgar looked at Sam and knew instantly that Sam finally understood.

"Dean wouldn't want this," Edgar said as Sam stared into his own hollow eyes in the mirror, transfixed. "Dean loved life. He wanted you to love it too. What would your brother say if he saw your alive-but-dead gaze? The gaze that will only get worse if you don't stop?" Sam tried to answer.

"He…he…" Sam was at a loss for words, unable to continue.

"Empty is no good," Edgar said, echoing the words that one of his rare but true friends had said to him in a phone call when he was trying to deal with the loss of Alan. "You must fill your eyes, if not with happiness, then with sorrow and pain. Even hate is better then empty. You should know that Sammy."

"Dean wouldn't want me to waste my life on hate…" Sammy said softly. Sam realized that this was the first time he had said Dean's name since he finally realized that his brother was dead and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Dean," Sammy said again, slowly. Edgar watched as Sammy slowly began to un-bottle.

"Dean. My brother." Sam's eyes began trembling and he could feel the sting of salty tears. "He's dead," Sammy croaked out finally. "Dean's dead."

With that, the tears began to fall from Sam's eyes. Edgar watched patiently as Sammy finally released all the tormented emotions he harbored. Occasionally Edgar would pat Sam on the back and for a few minutes, Sam was crying on his shoulder.

Sam wept long and hard, sometimes sobbing, sometimes sniffling, but always crying. The flow of tears seemed never ending and occasionally Edgar would sniff or shed a tear too. Edgar was upset by the death of Dean. The older Winchester had kept in contact with Edgar, calling him every few months since he was ten-years-old. Dean was one of Edgar's best friends. Now Dean was gone. This was a hard night for both of them. Sam dealing with his final release of emotions and Edgar with the harrowing news of Dean's death and having to kill his old friend-turned-vamp. Having to drag up memories of his brother didn't help things either. Through it all Edgar kept his calm, knowing there was time to be upset later. Sammy needed him right now.

After what felt like an eternity, but was really only and hour and a half, Sam finally stopped crying. The younger man looked up at Edgar.

"I'm sorry dude, I didn't mean to bawl my eyes out…" Sam explained feeling relieved yet mildly embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it," Edgar smiled. "You needed it. Now, no more chick flick moments." Edgar used a favorite quote of Dean's for when things got to girly for his liking. Sam smiled a little at that.

"Yeah," Sam said, amazed at Edgar's knowledge of his brother. Sam didn't know that Edgar and Dean had kept in touch.

"So, how'd you like a beer? You look like you could use one." Edgar offered. Sam didn't hesitate.

"I'd love one," he said softly.

Edgar went to the fridge and took out two beers then returned to the table and handed one to Sam. Edgar took his seat beside Sam and the two of them cracked open their beers. A comfortable silence passed between the two abandoned brothers, both were marveling at how much the other was like their lost brother. After a moment Sam decided to test Edgar's hidden knowledge of his older brother.

"Jerk…" Sam said softly, then taking a swig of his beer. Edgar's mind flew back to what Dean had once said about how he and his brother would tease each other with those nicknames.

"Bitch," Edgar muttered without a moment's hesitation. Sam smiled softly at the older man. Edgar smiled back. The two continued to peacefully drink their beers

It was the happiest Sam Winchester had been in a long time.

_You did good Ed,_ Edgar thought to himself, observing Sam's face, which seemed more life-filled already. _You did good._

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_Please review? Kinda? Sorta? Maybe?_


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